


Between what's Flesh and what's Fantasy

by lotspot



Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao
Genre: Magic, Mozart has to deal with his trauma dot png, leopold mozart die challenge, there is super duper magic involved but where is it coming from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 03:37:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotspot/pseuds/lotspot
Summary: Mozart starts noticing strange things happening when he plays music.The handsome ponytail man is only making things more confusing.





	Between what's Flesh and what's Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write urban fantasy really...

Mozart’s fingers dance over the keys. There is nothing in his world but his music right now. It flows through him and fills his mind. It fills his soul. Mozart has never felt real magic but he assumes this is pretty close to how it feels. His fingers feel like they’re on fire.

“Wolfgang.”

Mozart’s hands curl instinctively into fists and he flinches at his father’s voice. He says nothing.

“Go and pack. You leave for Vienna in the morning. If you want to play at least write it down. Try and make some money.”

Mozart purses his lips and listens as his father’s footsteps fade into the distance. He stares intensely at the piano keys and...

No. That can’t be right.

He slowly uncurls his fists and traces the keys where he had just been playing. The once white ivory keys now have small scorch marks on them. He frowns and backs slowly away from the piano. He hears his father call his name across the house and he sprints from the room, piano keys forgotten.

 

The trip to Vienna is quiet. Frustratingly quiet. New compositions fill his head but, with no way of letting them out, they just bounce around his skull. He places his hands over his ears to try and quieten everything down but it doesn’t work. He doesn’t know how long he sits like this but soon he is broken out of his trance by their arrival in Vienna. Mozart is immediately filled with joy at the architecture and the sense of inspiration that seems to leak out of every pore of the city. He wants to bathe in it. They pulls up in front of the prince’s court and Mozart is filled with nerves again.

He feels tiny in front of the massive doors. He feels tiny in the glorious arched hallways. He feels tiny next to the rows of courtiers who are all dressed better than him and clearly don’t want him here.

His gaze darts across them trying to find a friendly face of some kind. His gaze falls on a man standing maybe two people from the prince’s chair. His hair is pulled back in a ponytail and he is watching Mozart intently.

Mozart feels a sense of calm wash over him as he meets the man’s gaze. It is a similar feeling to when Nannerl would quietly slip her hand into his after Leopold left the room. His fingers twitch slightly at the memory and he feels a twinge of sadness but he pushes it away.

He offers to perform a piece for the prince who is more than happy to oblige. Mozart sits down at the piano and as he lowers his fingers to the keys he hesitates. He flashes back to his piano at home, the scorch marks... he shakes his head and begins to play.

This time he feels like it is pouring out of him like a stream. All this music had been anxiously bouncing around his head for the entire journey to Vienna and it finally feels like someone has opened a tap. He smiles and lets the pressure in his head properly decline. As he comes to a finish there is a stunned silence in the court that eventually morphs into scattered polite clapping. Mozart stands up and bows. Mozart stands up and wipes his hands on his jacket. It must be the nerves but his hands are clammier than usual. He usually gets a thrill from performing and he didn’t think he was nervous. Odd...

His eyes flit over to the ponytail man again. He has not moved but there is a new look in is eyes. Mozart could swear he sees them flare brighter for a brief moment but he’s too giddy to think about it. He grins lopsidedly at the man before turning back to the prince.

“Your highness I hope this proves my value and talents. I can only hope you enjoyed listening as much as I enjoyed playing for you. I believe I can be a very useful asset to your court if you’ll have me.”

The prince accepts his offer and the courtiers begin to file into the adjacent room for food and drink. Soon, Mozart is the only one left in the room apart from ponytail man.

“You should be more careful.”

Mozart jumps. His voice is commanding and has an effect on Mozart that he can’t quite place.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean monsiuer...”

“Salieri. And it’s maestro Salieri.”

A small light goes on in Mozart’s brain. “Oh Salieri! You are the court composer, yes? My father spoke of you.”

Salieri nods curtly. “You are correct. And your father is Leopold Mozart correct? Our paths crossed last time he was in Vienna. He seemed... well he didn’t compose like you did.”

Mozart’s sunny composure sags slightly at talk of his father but he remedies it as fast as he can. “We have generally quite different ideas about how I should approach my music. He is more traditional. But I owe him I guess.”

Salieri frowns. His eyes are darting across Mozart’s body like he is looking for something. When he meets Mozart’s gaze again there is a grim puzzlement in his eyes.

“He certainly had an effect on you it seems. And are we not all doomed to become our fathers?”

Mozart can feel himself shut off. He can feel every single carefully constructed wall in his mind shoot up within a second. Even he can feel the frost in his voice when he speaks.

“I would rather die than become anything like my father, maestro. Good day.”

He turns on his heel to head out of the room. His eyes fall on the piano again. He remembers his clammy hands from before and he wanders over to it silently. When he gets there his breath hitches. There is a small layer of frost covering some of the keys.

Mozart wipes it away with his sleeve curiously and frowns. He turns back to Salieri and finds him watching the whole process intently. Mozart says nothing and leaves the room feeling more confused than he has ever felt before.

 

Mozart works. He works hard. Salieri’s words float round his head like a ghost, taunting him. The rest of the time, Mozart’s mind is occupied with Salieri’s eyes. He can’t get those eyes out of his head. Soon he has completed his first opera and he finds himself amongst the courtiers once again. He has grown far more accustomed to the Viennese people now and finds himself fitting in easily. He doesn’t notice Salieri until he is directly beside him. Salieri rests his hand on Mozart’s shoulder and Mozart feels his anxiety subside slightly.

“Can I borrow you maestro?”

Mozart nods and excuses himself from the conversation he was having. He follows Salieri to a small side room.

“I’m sorry. I upset you last time we spoke.”

Mozart is surprised but he smiles. “It’s ok. I doubt you could have known. I just have a lot of – why are you looking at me like that?”

Salieri’s eyes are flitting over Mozart’s body again. He freezes and slowly raises his eyes to meet Mozart’s.

“I’m trying to understand you. Your magic has been fading.”

“Excuse me? I thought my music had been improving.”

Salieri stares back at him. His mouth is hanging open slightly and he looks more puzzled than ever.

“You – never mind. Forget I said anything. Your music has been improving. I hope you are finding Vienna to your liking.”

Salieri turns to leave. “Wait!”

Mozart runs over and grabs Salieri’s arm. When Salieri flinches slightly, Mozart lets go.

“Sorry I’m sorry but do you want to go out at some point? I know a place that does wonderful tea and cakes. I know it seems forward and we barely know each other but I would like to get to know you if you’ll let me I think would get on. I mean if you want to.”

Salieri looks Mozart over one more time before nodding. “Ok. I have two lessons in the morning. Meet me in the practice room at 12? We can go from there.”

Mozart grins. With just that smile he can feel his skin tingle with happiness. He hasn’t smiled like that in a long time. Salieri’s face has softened and there is a hint of a smile ghosting across his lips. Mozart can’t help but think he could look at it all day.

As Salieri turns to leave, the air between them feels charged. Mozart reaches his hand into the empty space. He lets out a yelp as he feels electricity spark through his fingers.  
Salieri turns around at the sound. Mozart is cradling his hand to his chest and staring at Salieri in confusion. Salieri takes in the scene and Mozart sees fear flit across his face before he turns and runs from the room.

 

When Mozart knocks on the door of the practice room the next day he sees relief flood Salieri’s face.

“You didn’t think I’d come.”

Salieri shrugs. “I wasn’t certain. I don’t know what you understood from yesterday.”

“I offered. It would be rude of me not to turn up.”

“So do you still want to go out or do you just want an explanation?”

Mozart stares at Salieri for a second. So there is an explanation.

“I can go for both?”

Salieri nods and they leave without another word. Mozart is too nervous to speak. Even once they are sat down he waits for Salieri to speak.

“I don’t really know how to explain this. You have to promise not to freak out.”

Mozart nods. He is staring really hard into his tea when suddenly his tea starts to spin like a small tornado in his cup. Mozart looks up at Salieri in disbelief. Salieri making a stirring motion with his finger and nervously biting his lip.

“You are doing this?” He whispers incredulously.

Salieri nods.

“Really?”

Salieri rolls his eyes. “if it helps, I can’t actually lie so, yes, I am making your tea spin with my magic.”

Mozart stares at him. “Did you magically hold my hand the first time I saw you?”

Salieri blushes. “I tried to find feeling in you that would calm you down. I hadn’t realised that that had manifested as holding your hand but in that case... I guess I did.”

Mozart smirks slightly. “Thank you I guess.”

“Ok so what about your magic?”

Mozart freezes for a moment before bursting into giggles. He sees Salieri cross his arms and raise his eyebrows. “Oh you’re serious.”

“You were covered in it when you arrived. I could see it. It was practically dripping from you.”

Mozart feels his world begin to fracture slightly.

“I don’t... I don’t have any magic Salieri. I promise.”

“But how is that possible? Your father is so powerful.”

With those words Mozart’s defences crumble completely.

“My father has magic?”

Salieri has the good grace to look apologetic. Mozart is gripping the table trying not to pass out. His mind is flipping through his entire childhood. Every change in mood he could never explain. Little odd things that Mozart had ignored. The scorch marks on the ivory. He is beginning to question every emotion he’s ever had when he feels Salieri’s hand on his.

“Mozart I’m sorry. But if it helps I can offer some explanation I think. I’m starting to understand what has happened.”

Mozart nods wordlessly. He looks up and he knows he looks scared. He doesn’t see the point in hiding it.

“When a fae bottles up their magic for too long or tries to hide very strong emotions their magic can begin to leak. It can affect the person the fae is most focussed on. In your father’s case that would be you. I haven’t seen it cling to someone the way it did to you though. Maybe it was the nature of your father’s magic...”

“Wait what? What is the nature of his magic?”

Salieri looks uncomfortable and Mozart already knows he’s not going to like the answer.

“His magic is... dark, Wolfgang. We crossed paths a couple of years ago and honestly, I did not enjoy it. My magic doesn’t flourish around that. I was worried that you had inherited that when you walked in. I apologise, again, for the comment I made but can you understand why I was hesitant?”

Mozart nods. “But the sparks. The frost. My father wasn’t there. As far as I’m aware I haven’t had his magic affect me unless he’s in the room.”

Salieri shifts uncomfortably in his chair and looks into his tea. Mozart can’t see the heat in his face but the small pillar of steam coming from the teacup betrays him.

“You will have to forgive  _me_ for those I think. It seems I am not always as in control as I believe myself to be.”

Mozart becomes acutely aware of Salieri’s hand on his still. He flips his hand round so their palms are touching and Mozart feels a tiny spark of heat. He blushes and bites his lip to try and hide the smirk threatening to break onto his face.

“Have you ever considered... that you don’t need to control certain things?”

Salieri’s breath hitches and Mozart sees his eyes flash.

“Interesting proposal.”

Mozart frowns a little.

“So when you said my magic was fading... what did you mean?”

Salieri leans forward in his chair. “I mean I thought it was I guess. Since you’ve been working in Vienna I’ve seen your father’s magic fading from you. I couldn’t comprehend how your music was getting so much better but your magic was fading. I thought your music and magic were connected and it didn’t make any sense. I realise now I was watching your father's influence wearing away. Distance heals etcetera etcetera. Do you feel better?”

Mozart lets his fingers stroke the palm of Salieri’s hand slightly as he thinks. He definitely feels more free. He doesn’t feel fear every time he plays a wrong note. He still flinches sometimes but he finds it easier to pick himself back up. “Yes. Yes I think I do.”

Salieri smiles. Mozart can feel the space between their hands heating up and he glances around him.

“We could go somewhere more private if you want.”

Salieri chuckles and Mozart feels his heart flutter. When did he get this far gone? “In a bit. We have to finish our tea first, Wolfgang.”

Mozart groans and pulls his hand back into his lap. He quietly sips at his tea, not breaking eye contact with Salieri once. He could feel his tea heating up and he smirks.

“Ok now my tea is too hot to drink so we are going to leave.”

Salieri doesn’t protest.

 

**Author's Note:**

> #LeopoldMozartGetBentSquad
> 
> Anyways this was silly and cute and a test for me to write so. 
> 
> Find me at probably-pride-related on tumblr <3


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